


Lesson Learned

by trysomecats



Series: Melida/Daan Probation [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bullying, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series References, probation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trysomecats/pseuds/trysomecats
Summary: It wasn’t bullying.None of the other padawans hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, or called him names. They were Jedi, after all, and knew better than to blatantly harm another living being.
Relationships: Adi Gallia & Siri Tachi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Siri Tachi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Melida/Daan Probation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798048
Comments: 30
Kudos: 154





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set between Jedi Apprentice books #8 and #9

It wasn’t bullying. 

None of the other padawans hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, or called him names. They were Jedi, after all, and knew better than to blatantly harm another living being. Instead, most everyone simply disregarded his very presence. Nobody met his gaze in the hallways or classrooms anymore. They only spoke to him when it was absolutely necessary. 

The reason for this was well justified: Obi-Wan had left the Jedi not too long ago, causing doubt and anxiety among all of the padawans and even most of the initiates in the temple. It was only natural for his peers to feel betrayed. That left Obi-Wan by himself, at least where the other padawans were concerned. He was an outsider now, albeit he chose that fate for himself, when deciding to leave the Jedi Order. 

Still, Siri thought back to earlier today, during their Intermediate saber fighting class. When the padawans had been instructed to pair off, Kenobi was left without a partner due to their uneven numbers. Then, Master Irri had noticed, and he told Obi-Wan to join one of the duos to make it a trio instead, and they could switch on and off with one another. 

Not one student welcomed him into their group. 

Even though his shields were strong, it had been hard to ignore the slight hunch in Obi-Wan’s shoulder’s, or the redness that flushed from his collarbones all the way to his cheeks. It made Siri feel guilty, which wasn’t right, because it was Obi-Wan who should be feeling guilty, not Siri or any of the other dedicated padawans residing in the temple. 

After the class had ended, Siri couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. She even had to remind herself that Obi-Wan wasn’t completely friendless. Bant Eerin was still fiercely loyal to him, though because she was an initiate, Bant had a different schedule than Obi-Wan and barely had time to speak with him anymore. This was the same case with his other close friend, Garen Muln, whose days were strictly occupied with his extra tutorial in piloting. There was that food-obsessed Dressellian, Reeft, who would have shared Obi-Wan’s schedule, if not for the extended mission he was currently on with his new master.

So there, Siri thought to herself, Obi-Wan wasn’t _completely_ alone, he was just _nearly_ alone. For some reason, this line of thinking only made her feel worse. She felt so badly about it, in fact, that it even hindered her ability to complete her coursework one evening. 

“You seem distracted, Padawan.” 

Siri blinked, and realized that she had been staring at the same paragraph of her galactic history text for a very long time. She felt her face grow slightly warm. “I’m sorry, my Master. I was lost in thought.”

“There is no need to be sorry for thinking,” Adi told her. “But you do look rather troubled. Is there something you would like to speak to me about?”

Siri bit her lip. She had only been Master Gallia’s padawan for a couple of weeks, and was still getting to know her. However, it was important for a padawan to be honest with her mentor. Siri wanted a strong bond with her master, so that in return she could be a strong Jedi Knight someday. 

“It’s Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Siri blurted out, before she could change her mind. “You don’t think- well, he’s caused a lot of trouble for the Jedi Order, hasn’t he?”

Adi blinked, clearly taken off guard from the conversation’s new direction. 

“I wouldn’t say so,” she said, carefully considering her words. “On the contrary, I would say that Padawan Kenobi has done a great deal of good for the Order. Having a padawan has improved Master Jinn’s attitude immensely.”

Siri was taken aback. “But Kenobi _dumped_ the Jedi.” 

Adi frowned. “He chose to stay on Melida/Daan because the planet was torn by war, and he wanted to help the children and their goal of peace. He acted rashly, yes, but only with the best intentions.”

“But- but he betrayed Master Jinn,” Siri pointed out. She felt uncharacteristically desperate to point out all of Obi-Wan’s flaws, but felt shamed deep down; she was acting uncharacteristically for a Jedi. “He’s on probation, Master. At thirteen years old!”

“I am not at liberty to discuss the situation in detail, Padawan, but Obi-Wan does not hold the full blame. He should have never been left behind in the first place. The Council understands this, as does Master Jinn now, too, which is why Obi-Wan has been put on probation. It gives them both a chance to strengthen their bond.”

“Oh,” was, unfortunately, the only response Siri was able to come up with. 

Adi studied her closely, and then said, “I am, however, curious as to why you are so focused on Obi-Wan Kenobi’s probation. I didn’t think the two of you were very well acquainted.”

“We aren’t,” Siri said quickly. This was true; she didn’t know him very well at all. They were two years apart in age, and they hadn’t been raised in the same clan as younglings. Their longest conversation had taken place only a few weeks ago, just before Siri became a padawan, when the temple was under siege by Master Jinn’s former padawan and Bruck Chun. Obi-Wan had asked for her help, and in return she’d chastised him: 

_“You’re the one who left the Jedi. When you did that, you cast doubt on the commitment of all Padawans, present and future. You made all Jedi Knight question whether we’re as committed as we should be. You’re almost as bad as Bruck!”_

“The other padawans don’t trust Obi-Wan,” Siri admitted to her master. _I don’t trust him either_. “They don’t talk to him, or acknowledge his presence anymore.” 

“I find this news disheartening,” Adi said slowly, in a way that made Siri’s stomach clench. “I would have hoped that the padawans would offer their support. I do believe that young Obi-Wan has been through enough already.” 

“If he spoke about what happened, maybe it would be different.” 

“How can he speak about it, if he is ignored?” 

Siri’s master made a good point. Her initial guilt over the situation only grew tenfold. 

“I would like you to take an additional hour tonight to meditate on what we have discussed,” Adi instructed her. “I think an important lesson was learned.”

Siri’s nose wrinkled before she could stop herself; she hated learning lessons! Nonetheless, she nodded. “Yes, Master. I will begin my evening meditation as soon as I finish this assignment; I’m on the last problem now.” 

“Good,” Adi said, smiling in the gentle way that she often did. Siri felt lucky to have such a wonderful master. She was an exemplary Jedi: strong, wise, kind, and on the Council. They were still very new to being Master and Padawan, but the more that Siri came to know Adi, the more she wanted to make her proud. 

The following afternoon, Siri and her closest friend Teena decided to group up with several other of their peers to practice for an upcoming tournament. On her way to the dojo, Siri’s stomach dropped when she saw Obi-Wan and his master emerging down the hallway from the opposite direction. She couldn’t help but notice that they walked side-by-side as equals, rather than as master and pupil. 

She thought back to last night’s discussion with her own master and sighed, taking a deep breath through her nose.

“Obi-Wan!” She called out. 

Both Obi-Wan and Master Jinn stopped in their tracks, and she went over to the duo. Master Jinn towered over both padawans. Siri resisted the urge to shrink back, but Obi-Wan seemed completely at ease. In fact, Siri even noticed that the Jedi Master’s hand had come to rest upon his pupil’s shoulder when they stopped. 

“Siri,” Obi-Wan greeted her. He sounded confident, though she felt just a touch of apprehension in the force. 

“Some of us are going to the dojo,” she said, once she had mustered up the courage. “Do you want to come?” 

There was only a brief pause, although it seemed incredibly slow to Siri. An array of emotions flickered across Obi-Wan’s face: surprise, hopefulness, apprehension, happiness, wariness. He finally looked up at Master Jinn. 

Jinn gave him permission straight away. “That sounds like fun, Padawan. I will see you this evening.”

With that, he turned and left, though not before squeezing his apprentice’s shoulder lightly in encouragement. _‘He knows,’_ Siri realized in guilt. _‘Of course he would be aware of how all of us have been treating his apprentice. We haven’t exactly been subtle.’_

“Thanks for inviting me,” Obi-Wan said earnestly when they were alone, his lips curving into a warm smile. 

“Well…” Siri shrugged, feeling slightly awkward. “I wanted to.”

She ‘wanted to’ merely for the benefit of pleasing her own master, but Obi-Wan didn’t need to know that. 

They didn’t speak to one another on the way to the dojo, but they did walk comfortably side-by-side. When they arrived in the section of the dojo that was reserved for padawans, Siri began to regret her actions when Teena and the rest of the group realized that Obi-Wan was accompanying her. 

“Why did you bring him here?” Teena hissed to her quietly, though her voice carried throughout the dojo’s walls. The other three padawans stared at her with accusation, and Siri immediately felt defensive. 

“He’s the best in our class,” she told them, and was surprised at the scorn that arose naturally in her tone. It just wasn’t fair, that someone who wasn’t a true Jedi had to be so kriffing good at wielding a lightsaber. “I, for one, want to do well in the upcoming tournament.”

Teena and the others looked at one another and shrugged, murmuring their begrudging agreements. Siri didn’t want to look at Obi-Wan, who had obviously overheard them, but she had no choice. His expression was completely composed, though he seemed to have lost the previous warmth in his eyes that had been there when it was just him and Siri. 

But what had he expected, really? They weren’t his friends. They didn’t share the same ideals, especially when it came to honoring the code. Siri had done her part and included him, and that should be more than enough to please her master. 

After warming up, they decided to each take turns facing Obi-Wan. It hadn’t exactly been what Siri had imagined; they originally planned on everyone taking turns against one another. This seemed as though it was an excuse for everyone to gang up solely on Obi-Wan, whether it was for ‘practice’ or not.

Siri went first, her training saber clashing fiercely with Obi-Wan’s over and over again. She couldn’t get a proper hit, and it frustrated her. She was able to stay composed, but when she came out as the loser of their mock duel, she felt resentful, and didn’t take Obi-Wan’s hand when he offered it to her. 

The padawan who went after Siri, another human three years her senior named Frin, managed to land a brutal strike across Obi-Wan’s left shoulder blade. Even powered onto a low setting, it still must have hurt. Nobody seemed to care that Frin had obviously pressed the blade down too roughly to be considered ethical in a mock duel. Obi-Wan grunted, but he rolled away and soon placed a light, winning tap across his foe’s chest. 

Teena was the fifth and last padawan to face Obi-Wan. By then, he was clearly tired, but still fought with an expertise that outdid most other junior padawans. Siri noticed halfway through that his ankle was shaking slightly. It had been wrapped for a few days when he had first come back to the temple, so he was probably aggravating the old injury. Sure enough, he soon stumbled a few moments later, allowing Teena to strike him on the same shoulder that Frin had. Obi-Wan hissed, and his ankle gave out completely, allowing Teena another winning hit. 

It wasn’t fair, and Teena would have been disqualified had this been an actual tournament. Still, nobody said anything, not even Siri. She watched cooly as Obi-Wan panted quietly, his face dripping with sweat as he shakily climbed to his feet, clearly exhausted after facing the five other padawans in a row. 

“Good match,” Teena told Obi-Wan, but her tone conveyed nothing but satisfaction. They were all being awful to Obi-Wan, but nobody was doing anything about it. Not even Obi-Wan himself, who merely raised an eyebrow at Teena but thanked her all the same. 

They went to change up after that, each parting into the changing rooms. 

“Want to go to dinner?” Teena asked Siri as they towled down and put their robes back on. They were the last of the group left, taking their time in the girl’s changing room. 

“Yes, I’m starving,” she agreed, her stomach growling. The dining hall was serving Aurebesh soup tonight, one of Siri’s personal favorites. It was made with topatos, one of the only vegetables that she actually liked. 

When they emerged from the changing room, Siri was surprised to see that Obi-Wan was still there, using a towel to wipe the excess perspiration from his face and neck. The burn on his shoulder had turned an ugly shade of red, but he barely seemed to notice it, even as he began to shrug back into his tunic. 

They made eye contact one more time, and icy blue clashed with steel gray. Siri found that, despite the churning in her stomach, she didn’t _want_ Obi-Wan to come with them. She had done as her master requested; she had given Obi-Wan a chance to open up to them, to redeem himself to his fellow padawans. 

She and Teena left the dojo without looking back. 


	2. Chapter 2

“I want your papers stacked neatly on my desk at the beginning of tomorrow’s class. You’ve had more than enough time to complete them. As far as I’m concerned, any late assignments will be graded _accordingly_.” 

Siri made eye contact with Teena, who grinned back. They both agreed that Master Til’bur’s advanced composition class was quite possibly the worst of the entire curriculum. Not only had Master Til’bur given them a horrible topic for their most recently assigned composition (a critical analysis on the evolutionary impacts of the Code), but she had also required it to be _handwritten_. There was nothing worse than the hand-cramping and ink stains that came with such a torturous task. Master Til’bur even said that she would take off points for penmanship. It was complete bantha-poodoo. 

As Siri tried to diligently listen to her least favorite professor ramble on about the importance of the assignment, she was unable to stop her thoughts from straying. Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting two rows in front of her, giving her a limited view of only the back of his head. He was dressed in his standard padawan garments, so Siri was unable to see his shoulder. She wondered if he had seen a healer after their session, or if he had even treated it at all. Not that it was any of her business, of course. If he neglected to care for himself, that was his own problem. 

“The grades from your previous assignment left much to be desired,” Master Til’bur’s sharp voice brought Siri back into focus. “Take a look here, and see for yourself. Perhaps it will give you the motivation to do well _this_ time around.” 

With that, the master pressed a button on her datapad, and suddenly the entire class was able to see their scores projected on the main classroom board. Siri wasn’t surprised, though infuriated all the same, to see that Obi-Wan had made top marks, and she had scored several points under him. Many of the other grades, including Teena’s, were far below the average standard, so Siri supposed she should at least be a little bit grateful. 

Still, she was Padawan to Councilmember Adi Gallia, and second-best just wasn’t enough. She would have to carefully look over her assignment again this evening, despite its completeness, to ensure that she would come out on top this time. 

“I expect to see _improvement_ on this next composition,” Master Til’bur warned them. “Now, allow me to go over the proper formatting requirements one more time before the end of our class….”

The young padawan became lost in her thoughts again. This morning, Adi had praised Siri for heeding her advice and ‘offering Obi-Wan some support.’ Instead of flourishing under such praise, Siri had instead been turned off from her breakfast due to the heaviness that had settled in the bottom of her stomach. 

She had been feeling increasingly guilty after the incident in the dojo, fighting back and forth with herself about it. At least she had invited Obi-Wan in the first place, and it had given him a chance to practice his own skills. That was better than hiding away by himself, or being forced to spend all of his time with that frightening master of his. 

But the more that she replayed the session in her mind, the more uneasy she became. They had purposefully ganged up on Obi-Wan with the intent to wear him out into failure, preying upon his weaknesses. It wasn’t very Jedi-like, and it just didn’t seem as ‘justified,’ as she had felt it was yesterday. Even if Obi-Wan had strayed from the Code, it certainly wasn’t their place to punish him. The Council was giving him another chance, and Siri had a deep respect for the Council - which her Master was a part of, she constantly reminded herself.

When Master Til’bur ended the class, Siri couldn’t help but notice that Obi-Wan was still favoring his left leg as he left the room. He avoided the direction of the dining hall, where most of the other students were heading for lunch now that classes had ended for the day. 

“I’m going to really be in for it,” Teena said to Siri as they walked together. They were accompanied by Frin Hesooki, Veg Kakca, and Laffi Li. Each of them had been present in the dojo yesterday. “My composition is only halfway done. I just hate writing by hand, it takes me forever.” 

“I know what you mean,” said Siri. “I finished mine two days ago and my hand still aches. I sure hope I do better this time.” 

“You have nothing to worry about,” Veg assured her, his dark Nautolan eyes blinking at her. “Your work was the best in the class last time.” 

“ _Almost_ the best,” Siri reminded him, scornfully. 

“Kenobi isn’t even a padawan right now,” Teena reminded her. “So his shouldn't count.” 

“If only it worked that way.” 

“Maybe it can.”

Siri, Vex, Teena, and Laffi all stopped to look at Frin, who had spoken. He was grinning at them, and suddenly pulled a folder out from his carry-on satchel. 

“I swiped Obi-Wan’s composition from his bag,” Frin said, looking gleeful. “Let’s see him get the top grade now.”

Siri was overcome with horror. “What in the galaxy are you _doing_? Why would you take that from Obi-Wan?”

“He shouldn’t have the top grade! You deserve it, Siri, not him!” 

Siri felt a rush of warmth at the compliment, but it wasn’t enough to make her want to sabotage Obi-Wan’s hard work. “It’s not right. You could get into a lot of trouble. We all could.” 

“It’s not like I’m going to copy it or anything. I just thought we could hang onto it for a bit, and then give it back after class tomorrow. Having a late grade will bring him down a notch or two.”

“It’s theft. If any of the masters were to find out…” Especially her own master, who just so happened to serve on the Council. 

“You didn’t seem to care about Kenobi much yesterday.” 

Siri’s face heated. “That was just a bit of rough play in the dojo. This is a completely different matter.” 

“What’s wrong with you, Siri?”

“I just don’t want to risk it, that’s all! It isn’t the Jedi way.” 

Laffi, at least, seemed close to being swayed. “I don’t know, Frin, maybe she’s right. I don’t want to get into any trouble.”

“Well, if you guys really think so,” Frin finally said. Then, after a moment of contemplation, he dropped the folder onto the floor. The papers inside it scattered across the hallway. “It’ll be easy for him to find now. Come on, I’m starving.” 

The others began to follow him, leaving Siri alone in the hallway, surrounded by over ten pages of beautifully calligraphed words. 

* * *

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon greeted his student as he entered their chambers, not long after his last class of the day ended. “How were your classes?”

“Very productive, Master,” Obi-Wan said, discarding his cloak and folding it onto one arm. “Although I do have quite a bit of catching up to do this evening.”

“You’re behind already?” Qui-Gon asked, surprised. Just this morning Obi-Wan had mentioned how caught up he was with his work. 

“There’s an assignment I forgot about,” Obi-Wan confessed. “An important one for Master Til’bur’s class, and it’s due tomorrow.”

There was something very troubling about his padawan’s expression; so much so that Qui-Gon immediately felt the need to comfort him. 

“It happens to the best of us,” he told his charge. “I know that you are a dedicated student, so I am not terribly concerned. Besides, seeing as you won’t be spending any time in the dojo for the next few days, you will have plenty of time to complete your coursework.”

“Yes Master,” Obi-Wan said, grimacing at the reminder.

“Speaking of which, why don’t I take another look at your shoulder?” 

“Alright,” Obi-Wan agreed. “But it’s much better today. It hardly hurts at all.” 

“I’m glad to hear so,” Qui-Gon said, leading Obi-Wan into their small refresher by his uninjured shoulder. He waited for Obi-Wan to remove his tunic before peeling away the bandage and inspecting the damage. 

Qui-Gon traced his fingers lightly over the burn. The bacta that was applied last evening had sped up the healing process immensely. The corners of the wound were scabbing over nicely, but the center was still an angry red, glistening with clear discharge. They would still have to ensure it didn’t develop any infection over the next few days. 

“I’m still concerned that this happened in the first place,” Qui-Gon said. “If I had known there were no other masters supervising, I would have done so myself.” 

“I think everyone is _very_ enthusiastic about the Junior Padawan Tournament.” 

“I should say so. But an injury like this would have immediately disqualified the attacker. Did you do something to anger them?” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Obi-Wan said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Qui-Gon frowned. Something about the entire incident seemed off to him. He wished that he had been there to witness it himself. Obi-Wan seemed very reluctant to talk much about it. Injuries in the dojo weren’t exactly uncommon, but they usually weren’t like this. It was as though someone had taken their saber and _held_ it against his padawan’s arm, an action that was just as cruel as it was forbidden. 

“It’s mending well,” Qui-Gon noted. “But you need to be careful for a few more days. The same goes for your ankle. Have you been keeping it wrapped today?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good,” Qui-Gon knelt down, taking Obi-Wan’s injured ankle and settling it onto his lap. He carefully undid the wrap, taking note of the swelling that had come back. “Was this difficult to walk on today?” 

“Not especially.” 

Obi-Wan’s ankle had been injured on Telos; he had turned it during his fight with Xanatos. It had been almost completely healed, though still somewhat tender. Unfortunately the damage done yesterday left it much worse now. 

“I still think you ought to stay off of it as much as possible. You may attend your saber class tomorrow morning, but only to observe. No running or gallivanting across the temple. Master Che will have both our heads if you ruin her hard work.” 

Obi-Wan frowned deeply, obviously not happy with the order, though he was too well behaved to argue about it. Qui-Gon felt bad about his order, but there was nothing that could be done. 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, once he had re-wrapped the padawan’s ankle. “I think it would be best if you avoided any more duels with that particular group of padawans in the future.” 

“I don’t think that will be a problem, Master,” Obi-Wan said softly. He looked so terribly disheartened. It made Qui-Gon swallow. He wanted to demand answers from Obi-Wan, to ask why he was so sad, and how it could be fixed. Qui-Gon was still getting to know Obi-Wan, and he would prefer to have his padawan come to him first, so that he would never have to demand answers from his student. 

Unfortunately, if this went on for much longer, he might not have a choice in the matter. 

* * *

Siri clutched Obi-Wan’s assignment tightly between her fingers, standing directly outside of the chambers belonging to Obi-Wan. She had already tapped on the door-chime, so there was no escaping now. 

To her misfortune, when the door slid open, she wasn’t greeted by Obi-Wan at all. Instead, Qui-Gon Jinn stood in the doorway, appraising Siri in silence. It left her rather startled for a moment, which was ridiculous, seeing as the master shared these quarters with Obi-Wan. She should have expected to see him. 

“Oh,” Siri automatically took a step back, craning her neck to look up at the tall master. “Good afternoon, Master Jinn. Is Obi-Wan here?” 

Master Jinn merely stared down at her. “Obi-Wan isn’t available right now.”

Siri bit back a groan. She had been hoping to speak to Obi-Wan one-on-one, so she could give him back his assignment, apologize for the dojo incident, and then be guilt free without getting any masters involved - _Especially_ Master Jinn. Unfortunately, it seemed that this wasn’t going to be a possibility. 

“This belongs to Obi-Wan,” Siri said, handing the folder to Master Jinn. “It’s an assignment for our composition class. One of my- uh, another padawan stole it from him.”

He took the folder from her, eyebrows furrowing as he briefly looked it over. Despite his impeccable shielding, there was something in his eyes that screamed vexation. Siri felt her hands begin to tremble. 

“This assignment,” Master Jinn said slowly. “Is it due tomorrow? For Master Til’bur?” 

“Uh, yes,” Siri confirmed.

“I see. May I ask the name of the padawan who took this from him?”

Siri was going to be in deep water with Frin, but there was nothing she could say or do to defend him. “Frin Hesooki.” 

Without missing a beat, Qui-Gon asked: “Was he one of the padawans you and Obi-Wan were practicing with in the dojo yesterday?” 

His cold tone almost made Siri completely freeze up. She took a very deep breath in order to re-center herself. 

“Yes, Master Jinn,” Siri managed to say. She could have left it at that. Technically, Siri hadn’t been the one to strike at Obi-Wan’s shoulder or force him to use his bad foot. She had merely observed the whole thing in amusement, which, now that she thought about it, sounded just as bad out loud. 

But Siri was a Jedi, and, therefore, needed to do right by both the Code and the Council. If she couldn’t do this, then she would be no better than Obi-Wan, or Bruck, or even Frin. She bent down on one knee, as was the proper arrangement when a student confessed disobedience to a master.

“The other padawans and I behaved unfittingly for Jedi yesterday. We were intentionally rough on Obi-Wan in the dojo, with the desire to cause him hurt. I have no excuse, Master Jinn, and I place myself fully under your judgement.” 

There was no telling what her punishment might be. Qui-Gon Jinn was notoriously infamous among Jedi Masters and students alike. This made everyone look upon him in both awe as well as fear. At the current moment, Siri was at the disposal of the latter. She had no idea how Obi-Wan managed to _live_ with the man. 

“Thank you for coming forward, and also for returning Obi-Wan’s assignment,” he said. “You honor yourself by your confession. Tell me, is Master Gallia aware of what happened?” 

“No, Master Jinn.” 

“Then I ask that you return to your quarters and tell her straight away.” 

“Of course, Master Jinn,” Siri said. She stayed kneeled, waiting for more. Surely that couldn’t be it? She had already been planning on talking to her master, mostly to find a cure from being eaten alive with guilt. 

Instead, Master Jinn merely nodded once, and then disappeared back into his quarters. 

But, Siri soon realized, his actions made sense. Telling her master about all of this was a very fitting punishment, indeed. 

Adi was going to be so disappointed. 

  
  


* * *

Qui-Gon rapped on Obi-Wan’s door once, and then waved it open with his hand. 

Obi-Wan was sitting at his desk, dutifully starting his stolen assignment from scratch. 

“Master?” He cocked his head slightly, clearly confused at his sudden entry. 

“That assignment you forgot about,” he said, striding further into the room. “It wouldn’t happen to be this one, would it?”

He withdrew the folder from the confines of his cloak. 

“Master!” Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. “Where did you get that? I thought-”

“Padawan Tachi stopped by in order to return it,” Qui-Gon said. 

“Oh.”

“Come sit down on the meditation cushions with me,” Qui-Gon instructed. “I’d like to speak with you.”

Obi-Wan followed him without a word. When they were both comfortably seated and facing one another, Qui-Gon didn’t hold back any longer. He got straight to the point instead. 

“Obi-Wan, Padawan Tachi informed me that one of the other padawans hid your assignment from you, intentionally.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said reluctantly, staring down at his hands. 

“You knew they had done this?”

“...Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said again. “I didn’t want to start any trouble. I still had all the materials for the assignment, so I was just planning on re-doing it tonight.” 

“You didn’t want to start any trouble?” Qui-Gon repeated in disbelief. “Obi-Wan, that padawan was intentionally trying to sabotage your grade. Why did you not come to me, or inform your course instructor?” 

Obi-Wan’s cheeks were steadily growing pink. “I’m sorry, Master. It might have led to a fight, and then I could have gotten into trouble. I’m on probation, so I can’t risk anything! Soon we’ll get to go on off-planet missions again, and then I won’t have to worry about the other padawans anymore, or at least for a while.” 

“You should have informed me about this,” Qui-Gon said sternly. “It’s a very serious matter. Bullying is not tolerated at this temple, and especially not from any aspiring Jedi. Padawan Tachi also informed me of what happened yesterday.” 

Obi-Wan looked surprised. “Did she?"

“This is a very serious matter, Obi-Wan. I am also not pleased that you hid it from me.” 

“It’s not a big deal, Master,” Obi-Wan said, though he squirmed at the chastisement. “Really, it-”

“That’s not so,” said Qui-Gon. “I knew that you were having some problems fitting in with the other students your age, but this- It will need to be brought before the Council.”

“No, Master! You can’t tell the Council about this!” 

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. Obi-Wan had never told Qui-Gon a direct ‘no’ before. Usually that type of behavior was discouraged; Padawans were encouraged to question their Master’s motivations, but never to directly disagree. 

Besides, by now, one of the Councilmembers was probably learning what happened at this very moment. Adi was a fair and gentle master, but very diligent and honorable. She would no doubt take care of the problem. 

“Obi-Wan, this is a much bigger deal than you realize. Those padawans need to own up to their behavior. That is no way for a Jedi to act, especially to his or her peers.”

Qui-Gon realized that he was being stern, but to him, there was no other option. The thought of Obi-Wan being given a hard time from his classmates was very infuriating, and something that he would be taking a long time to meditate on tonight. Furthermore, Obi-Wan had knowingly deceived his master by withholding the issue from him, which was not okay, even if he was the victim in this scenario. 

Obi-Wan looked at him anxiously. “If you tell the Council, it will make things worse. My peers will have even more cause not to like me.” 

Qui-Gon brought his large hand up to cup his padawan’s cheek, gently tracing his thumb over the soft skin as an act of comfort. “It’s going to be alright. But Obi-Wan, I cannot ignore something like this. Were you planning on allowing this cruel behavior indefinitely?” 

“The last person who did things like this was Bruck,” Obi-Wan reminded Qui-Gon tentatively. “When I fought him back, my rash behavior got me sent to the Agricorps. I’m trying to be _better_ , Master.”

Bruck Chun was still a very, very sensitive topic. Qui-Gon knew that he had to tread around it carefully. 

“I understand your intentions,” he said gently. “But there is a lesson to be learned here. Balance. As Jedi, we are peacekeepers. We avoid violence and find other solutions when we can, yes?”

“Yes, Master.” 

“That’s what needs to happen now.” 

“They do have a right to be angry with me, Master. I caused them much fear and doubt when I left the order.” 

“It is _not_ their place to punish you. Do you understand this? Any fear or doubt they might be feeling about the order would have to come from much more than just your actions alone.” 

“I understand, Master,” Obi-Wan told Qui-Gon, but from the look of guilt that still lingered in his eyes, it was clear that he didn’t. 

“We’re going to fix this,” Qui-Gon reassured Obi-Wan. He reached out to twist his finger around his student’s small braid. “Together, as Master and Apprentice.”

That at least got a small smile from his overly anxious padawan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to split the story into one more chapter - I'll have it posted very soon. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of the feedback so far!


End file.
